


Ten Months of Winter

by flannelfeelings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Cancer, Character Death, Cheesy, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Just a short thing I did, Just a thing I did for feels, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mentions of homophobia, Oral Sex, Panty Kink, Romance, Shameless Smut, Sickness, So much sex wow, Terminal Illnesses, The ending is a little abrupt I think, They take turns lol, mature content, weight loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:19:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flannelfeelings/pseuds/flannelfeelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean doesn't expect his last ten months on Earth to be this way. He just wants a little good natured fun and some exciting experiences. <br/>Naturally, his attempt at a one-night stand turns into something much more fanatical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Months of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Re-upload and edit of this story I tried before! 
> 
> Please read the tags for warnings, don't want anyone getting triggered.  
> Also I use this illness fictitiously and the medical things are dramatized. 
> 
> Please enjoy, comments and thoughts are encouraged :)

Dean likes to pretend the words “terminally ill” mean something different than their usual expected meaning. After all, it’s just so awful sounding, isn’t it? He’s a big boy, he’s almost twenty seven, he can manage to spit the words out when he has to, but he’d much prefer to call himself “almost-done-with-life.” And okay, the actual disease may be called Hodgkins Lymphoma, but Dean also prefers calling it, “fucking-shit-how-did-that-happen?” They say it started in his lymph nodes and spread to his spleen, liver, and pretty much any area that could be affected. When he finally went in to the doctor complaining of relentless fatigue, soaking night sweats, and an unexplained weight loss that sent him from a 34 inch waist to a 29, they told him he was Stage 4. He’d tried chemotherapy for a while, but all it did was make him sick constantly and make his hair fall out in clumps. It did nothing to stop the progression of the disease, or even remotely slow down the process of his death. Surprisingly, this disease in particular actually has a high cure rate. Dean’s a very, very rare case of “ _Fuck you you’re going to die anyway.”_

Eventually he just decided to let the disease run it’s course, and finish out his last few months in style. Naturally, this didn’t sit too well with his family. His father John and his brother Sam are relentless in their efforts to find a plausible cure. His mother Mary and her best friend Bobby Singer are constantly on the lookout for remedies to his constant symptoms and pain. Dean isn’t too affected by it really, despite the physical aspects of his disease, he’s doing okay. He knows, with unquestionable certainty that he’s going to die, there’s no getting around it. He wishes he were going a little differently -perhaps getting gunned down in Iraq while defending his country, or some really gruesome murder that will go down in history- but reality has always been quite unextraordinary for Dean.

Tonight though, he hopes is going to be fairly good. He wants to have fun; blind, careless, completely inconsequential fun. After all, he’s got a deadline of 10 months and he wants to fill them up with all the joy he can squeeze in. He adjusts himself on the wooden bar stool, swiveling it sideways to glance around him at potential lovers. So far, there’s nothing here that interests him. A few cute blondes and some good looking redheads, but he’s really on the hunt for something not so exotic, while still unique. He’s just about to give up on his hunt for a wild one night stand, when a dark-haired man walks in. He’s shorter than Dean, slim but still muscular. He’s got a jaw that could slit throats, and cobalt eyes so blue that the sky is fucking envious. Dean thinks that comparison is stupid, but there’s no other way to admire such beautiful eyes. Dean’s heart nearly stops 10 months early when the man sits right beside him at the bar.

“You,” the man says kindly, “Have got a staring problem.”

“I would not say looking at beautiful things is a problem.” Dean admits, curling his lips up in his famous lady-killing smile that does just the same for men.

“Oh so you think I’m beautiful?” the man inquires, looking amused as he politely asks the bartender for a drink, and turns to face Dean fully.

“Excruciatingly. You are one good lookin’ guy, stranger.”

“Well I suppose that makes two of us, doesn’t it?” A small smile crawls across his face, and Dean can feel a familiar sensation tugging at his jeans. Jesus, it took this man all of ten seconds to get Dean hot and bothered. 

“So stranger,” Dean says, as the man receives his drink and sips it delicately, “Do you have a name?”

“You are quite forward.” the man muses, but his expression is light. He’s enjoying this banter.

Dean smirks, “I can afford to be forward.” but he doesn’t elaborate.

The other man seems to be waiting for an explanation, but when one doesn’t arise, he decides to play along, “My name is Castiel. Castiel Novak.”

“I’m Dean.” he smiles and they shake hands quickly.

“Nice to meet you Dean.”

“Castiel. Kind of a weird name,” Dean observes, hoping it doesn’t come off as rude, “I mean- an interesting name.”

Castiel laughs loudly, “You have no idea, Dean.”

“So you don’t mind being named something out of the ordinary then?”

He shrugs, “Life is about perspective, I figure. My name is unique.”

Dean’s lips tilt up in a smirk, “I guess so.”

*

Dean’s back hits against the door as Castiel pushes him up against it. He ignores the sore feeling in the back of his neck -fucking lymph nodes- and presses his lips against Castiel’s. The shorter man is completely comfortable pulling Dean further into the motel room. It smells of cinnamon and crisp cologne, two scents Dean hates by themselves but finds himself relishing in as they’re combined. Then, he’s lowering Cas on to the bed, pressing hot kisses along the man’s neck and appreciating each inch of hot, damp skin that’s being pushed against his own. Everything except for Castiel blurs around him. He briefly notices Castiel pulling something out of his bag, lube. Dean rolls on his stomach, gripping the pillow in anticipation as his pants are removed. He can hear Castiel behind him, and feel the soft string of tingling electricity that the blue-eyed man leaves behind his fingertips.

“Are you ready?” Castiel asks gruffly, cool breath washing over Dean’s ear, sending uncontrollable shivers coursing through his body.

Dean nods, “Give it to me Cas.”

The pleasure registers, coursing through Dean’s body in sharp waves. He’s aware; he hears the moans that fall from his lips and the soft grunts of breath that Cas emits as he slowly rides up into Dean. He feels each pulsing thrust that sends him groaning in pleasure against the satin of the motel bed sheets. He can taste the inside of his cheek as he bites it to keep from screaming Castiel’s name and waking the neighbors. His skin is hot, cheeks flushed red, and Cas looks the same. Dean can only see him out of his peripheral vision, but the other man is clearly enjoying himself. There’s something so unfamiliar and euphoric about the feeling of Cas. Dean has felt the touch of so many men and women before, but there’s something so different about this stranger that makes him breathless. Dean forgets everything in the world except Cas’ hands gripping his hips tightly. He forgets everything but the passionate, sincere-sounding whispers that Cas is throwing to him in the dark. There’s nothing but the feeling and the sound and the smell that embraces Cas. His essence envelopes all the space other things might need to occupy. Cas is an expansion of soul that makes Dean unable to focus on anything but him. He’s entrancing and enticing and completely Dean’s. The only thing on Earth right now, is Dean and Castiel. And then, Cas finishes, and Dean follows right behind him.

He moans out Castiel’s name, and Cas returns the favor. Dean loves the way his name sounds on Cas’ lips. Like his mouth was perfectly molded to speak Dean’s name and no one elses. When Cas removes himself from Dean and they flop tiredly beside each other on the bed, Dean feels as though a part of him has been broken off. But then, Cas pulls Dean against him and Dean cradles the man against his chest, and he’s whole again. He knows he should be concerned. Why the hell does he have such strong and incomprehensible feelings towards a man whom he barely knows? He doesn’t know, but there’s something so beautiful in the mystery of his infatuation that he doesn’t care.

“Did you...feel that?” Cas breathes against Dean’s torso.

Dean is relieved it’s not just him who felt such an unexplainable connection, “You mean the awesome orgasm or the weird feelings?”

“So it wasn’t just me.”

“You’re something Cas. You know that?”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Are you saying that meant nothing to you?”

Cas sighs gently, then looks up to face Dean. Pale moonlight washes across his stricken face, but his eyes are telling Dean that he’s happy, “I’m not looking for anything long term.”

Dean chuckles and tucks Cas a little closer to him, “Trust me stranger, neither am I.”

**

Dean awakens to a snore. It’s a loud, obnoxious type of snore that usually drives him mad with annoyance and makes him furiously angered. But, when he blinks away sleep and looks down to find it’s Cas producing such a noise, he finds it impossible to be irritated. This is when he slips out, undetected and never to be seen again. He will untangle from Cas -who’s curled against his side like a fucking squid- and pull on his shoes and coat, and escape into the real world, where one night stands are a faraway impossibility. But god, Cas is so warm, and soft, and Dean is so sore and fatigued and his back is killing him. Maybe he can just cuddle Cas a bit closer and fall into a peaceful sleep. Just for a few hours. Just a little..nice...nap.

No. He needs to leave. Cas even admitted that he doesn’t want anything more than a one nighter, and let’s be real, Dean’s not exactly in a position to get into a relationship. He is going to get up and sneak out like he always does-

“Dean?” Cas’ eyes slowly drift open, and he blinks a few times, looking up at Dean’s face. Beams of morning sunlight stream through the window, glistening in his cerulean eyes, and Dean can’t bring himself to move even an inch away.

“Mornin’ stranger,” Dean murmurs softly.

“You stayed all night,” Cas observes, dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry,” Dean explains, “I fell asleep. Should I go?”

“No!” Cas responds a little too quickly. He clears his throat and composes himself, pulling Dean a bit closer, “I’m uh, not ready for you to leave yet.”

“That’s okay Cas, I’m not quite ready to leave either.”

Cas sighs, dragging himself up into a sitting position. Dean watches as he stretches out the night’s coiled muscles. Muscles is right. Dean finds himself admiring each tendon that ripples it’s way across Castiel’s bare back and tanned shoulders. Christ, what is this guy a body builder? Dean remembers when he used to be well built and broad. Before he got sick, he had a swoon-worthy body for sure. Now...now he’s freckled skin pulled over trembling bones. No matter how religiously he stuffs his face, he continues to get smaller. His body is preparing to die by shrinking itself, and he’s disgusted every time he looks into the mirror. He’s not particularly skeletal, but he’s sure lost a lot of muscle and fat that he didn’t appreciate until now.

“Staring again,” Cas observes, and he rises from the bed, stark naked against the brilliant son that shapes his body with gold.

Dean licks his lips and sits up, “Not just staring at your _face_ this time stranger.”

Cas chuckles and pulls on the gray boxers scattered across the floor. It takes him a moment of fidgeting uncomfortable with the fabric that’s too tight around his hips to realize that they’re Dean’s. Face a brilliant bloom of red, Cas strips them off again and crosses the room in a hurry to his underwear. Dean grins at the flustered man before him, and gets out of the bed to put on the boxers. It’s unfortunate when Cas actually finds a pair of underwear that fits him, because Dean could stare at his ass all day. God, that ass. Dean wanted to bite into it like a crisp red delicious apple.

“Well,” Cas says, staring at Dean, both men clad only in boxers, “We’re this far. We might as well get breakfast together.”

**

An hour later Cas and Dean are sitting silently in a clean, cherry red booth at a diner downtown. They’d taken Dean’s car, because it was the one they’d used to get home from the bar last night, and Cas’ is still outside the bar. Dean is going to swing him by the probably deserted bar to get it after they eat. After ordering hefty servings of food, the boys are left to stare at each other.

“So,” Cas tries, “Last night was...fun.”

Fun wasn’t exactly the word Dean was going to use. He would’ve said something like: spiritual, or intense, or maybe even life changing. He decides not to mention any of these things though. For Castiel’s sake.

Instead, he asks, “So how does a biblically named son of a preacher end up having a gay one night stand?”

It may be a personal question, but like he said before, Dean can afford to be forward.

Cas doesn’t seem to mind answering with ease, “Can’t say my father and I are always on the same page. In fact, we haven’t spoken in years. Not since I uh, came out I guess. Inadvertently actually, he caught me sucking off my best friend.”

“Ooh,” Dean smirks, “You can’t tell me that didn’t make it all the more exciting though?”

Cas leans across the table a little, and runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “It made it i _nvigorating_.”

Dean shudders as the word escapes Cas’ mouth in a hushed tone, “Well you certainly have a way with people. Gay men especially, it seems.”

Cas grins, “Not exactly. That’s sort of why one night stands are my forte, if you will. And what about you Dean? Gay one nighters just common where you come from?”

Dean chuckles, “I’m not gay. I appreciate the beauty of a human body in _all_ it’s forms if you catch my drift. But yeah, my parents are cool about it. One night stands are uh...just easier.”

Cas arches an eyebrow teasingly, “Easier huh? What, afraid of feelings?”

Dean shifts nervously, and Cas seems to notice his hesitation, but he also doesn’t seem to care. He looks expectantly, and Dean figures this is as good of a time as any. “Could have something to do with my deadline,” he says tentatively.

Castiel’s dark brows furrow, “Deadline?”

“I’m uh, I’m dying.”

It takes a moment for the realization to set in. Cas stares for a second, brows drawn down in confusion. Then comprehension crosses his face and he leans back, any trace of seductiveness wiped clean of his expression.

“You’re- you’re _dying_?” he repeats incredulously.

“Well, not at the moment. But probably in around ten months I will be actively crossing over.”

Cas’ face turns an ugly shade of green and he grips the table, knuckles white, “You didn’t-you didn’t tell me?”

“Is that a question Cas?”

“Why are you- you’re out having sex? Why aren’t you in the hospital or something? God, what are you dying of? Dean.”

Dean snorts out a short, humorless laugh, “Cas, I’m dying, I’m not an invalid. Well...not yet. It’s terminal, chemo didn’t work for me.”

“It’s cancer?” Cas rasps through white lips.

“Hodgkins Lymphoma. You okay Cas? You look like you’re about to hit the floor. Tell me if you’re gonna pass out, I don’t need you cracking your skull on my watch.”

“I’m fine,” Cas’ mouth curls anxiously around the words, “This is just...a lot to take in.”

“Oh man,” Dean shakes his head, “Someone died of cancer huh Cas? Who was it?”

At first he seems startled that Dean was so perceptive, but he appears to realize his reaction warrants a little curiosity. Cas takes a deep breath and manages, “My mom. Breast and thyroid cancer. Got the thyroid fixed up, but the breast cancer killed her.”

“Man, I’m sorry Cas.” Dean reaches across the table and finds himself holding Castiel’s hand. To his credit, Cas doesn’t pull away, just looks at Dean in mortification.

“You’re consoling me. Oh god this is fucked. I should be comforting you.”

Dean chuckles, “That’s magnanimous of you Cas, but I don’t need comfort.”

Cas shakes his head disbelievingly, “You’re so composed. Is that...is that hard?”

Dean takes a moment to ponder the question. Is it hard? No. Not really. Dean truly doesn’t find it hard.

“No,” He shakes his head, “Life is finite Cas. Everyone dies. I’m dying, and I can either go out blubbering like a schoolgirl every day, or I can finish off life having a damn good time. Which would you pick?”

Cas shudders visibly, “I guess I’d want to have a good time.”

Dean sighs, “Sorry to drop this bombshell on you Cas. This wasn’t supposed to go so far. I thought we were just going to end up fucking, but here we are. I figured if we’re eating breakfast together I might as well just be honest. Don’t think this means I expect anything from you. I’m not going to feel bad or anything if you want to leave right this second.”

“You don’t seem like that type of person,” Cas agrees softly, “But does that mean you don’t want me to stay for breakfast?”

Dean grins as the waitress approaches them with two strays of stacked breakfast. She sets it in front of them, steaming and delicious, and scurries away.

Dean plucks his fork off the table and says, “You can even stay for _dinner_ cas.”

-

-

Christ. Dean did not mean for this to happen. Castiel was supposed to be a one night rendezvous, never to be spoken of again. They are not supposed to be here, seven weeks later, sitting at a fancy friggen restaurant while Cas says the most ridiculously romantic shit Dean has ever heard.

“So Dean,” Cas says tentatively, while Dean bites into a warm breadstick, savoring the taste, “I know we have only been seeing each other for two months, but I wanted to ask you something.”

Dean snorts, “Cas, two months is a lifetime to me. Hit me with it.”

“How would you feel about moving in with me?” Dean’s a bit startled. He isn’t sure what he was expecting- maybe Cas wanted to try a new sex position or something- but he did not anticipate this.

“Why?” Dean finds himself asking.

“Because I’m falling in love with you.” Cas admits, “And I don’t want to spend more time apart than necessary.”

“Aw Cas you big sap,” Dean’s voice is teasing, but his heart is touched, “‘Course I’ll move in with you. I’m falling in love with you too you dork.”

A grin spreads across Castiel’s face, cheeks dimpling with excitement, “Glad you didn’t reject me.”

“But Cas..” Dean takes a deep breath, “Look have you really thought this through? I mean...what are you going to do when I…?” He doesn’t have to finish the sentence for Cas to understand what he is asking.

“That’s eight months away.” Cas mutters unsurely, more to himself than Dean, “By then I’ll...I’ll be prepared.”

“You sure about this Cas?” Dean needs him to be absolutely positive that he is comfortable opening his home to a dying man.

Cas nods with certainty, “Yes. Absolutely. I want to fall asleep with you and wake up beside you each night and day. I want to come home from work and see your face.”

“You do realize I lost my job three weeks ago, apparently they didn’t want a dead guy on the payroll. I’ve been living with my brother, Cas I’m not going to be very good about rent.”

Cas grimaces, “I don’t have a rent. I own a house.”

Dean’s jaw practically unhinges, “Cas, are you high? You’re twenty four you can’t afford to-”

“It was my moms. I inherited it. It’s a three bedroom just outside Kansas City. Really nice and really cheap to keep up.” Dean swallows; no wonder Cas never invited him over. Anyone would be a little suspicious of a twenty four year old with his own house.

“Well,” Dean mutters, “I guess the only problem now is I’ll be dead in eight months.”

Cas swallows visibly, taking a swig of his wine and replying, “I find it easier not to think about it.”

“You should not have gotten into a relationship with me.” Dean admonishes.

“You’re the only person I could even consider doing this with.” Cas says, and chuckles bitterly.

Dean snorts, “You’ve got shitty taste.”

“Maybe so,” he considers, “But thank god I do.”

**

They always end up here, it seems. After each date, mouths pressed together, hot, damp bodies gliding against each other. Dean briefly registers the fact that he’s seeing Castiel’s house for the first time, but all he can focus on is the feeling of Cas’ lips against his. God his mouth is so amazing. His breath smells like lasagna right now, which really is pretty gross, but Dean wouldn’t have it any other way. Cas is about to drop in front of Dean and give him a hopefully amazing blowjob -Cas is very good at those- but he stops abruptly. Dean’s shirt is halfway off, and his skin is overheated and sweaty.

“Dean,” Cas breathes out, eye level with Dean’s waist.

“What Cas?”

“Look at this.” Cas points to a quarter sized, puckered red spot on Dean’s hip. Dean recognizes it instantly; his doctor had showed him a few slides of it during his diagnosis.

“That’s normal Cas,” Dean pants, swallowing his arousal with difficulty, “Symptom. Something about low platelet count because of bone marrow infiltration.”

Cas rises to his feet and asks in a shaky voice, “This means it’s getting worse?”

Dean lets out a humorless chuckle, “Cas I’m dying, don’t get much worse than that.”

Cas stares at Dean for a moment, then he falls back on his butt and begins sobbing into his hands. Dean’s stunned silent; Cas is crying. Crying like a kid who lost his favorite toy. Heart wrenching weeping fills the air; Dean has no idea what to do. He slowly sinks to the ground and puts an arm around Cas. He faintly observes that Castiel’s floors are really cold; they’re a dark burnished wood.

“Cas?” he urges, “What’s going on?”

“You’re dying!” his voice is nearing a shout, “I can’t do anything about it!”

“Wow, you’re really upset about this aren’t you Cas?” Dean is a little surprised at the outburst, since Cas has been pretty relaxed about the whole situation. That’s partly why Dean likes him so fucking much; he treats Dean like a regular guy and not some fragile, breakable piece of porcelain.

“Of course I’m fucking upset!” Cas spits, squinting up at Dean through a hazy mist of tears, “God Dean, you have no idea how much you mean to me.”

“Jesus Cas,” Dean whispers, “This isn’t good for you. Being with me...I thought you could handle it but maybe you can’t.”

“I know where you’re going with this,” Cas sobs brokenly, grabbing at Dean’s unbuttoned shirt, desperate, “Don’t leave. You love me Dean. I love you.”

“‘Course I love you Cas,” Dean admits, “I’ve known you barely two months and I love you. Hell, you’re awesome. You’re the only person who puts up with my classic rock obsession, and you’re always happy to oblige when it comes to my neverending hunger for burgers and only burgers. And god, you’re so smart. I love me a smart guy Cas.” Dean finds himself rubbing Castiel’s back soothingly, consoling him.

“Here we are again,” Cas sniffles, “You’re the sick one and I’m the one being comforted.”

Dean grimaces, “I always heard the death of someone... _sick_ , is harder on the family and friends.”

“Naturally.” Cas mumbles, wiping under his eyes with his shirtsleeves, “I’m sorry Dean.”

“Cas it’s okay to cry in front of me. Not gonna judge you about anything, ever.”

“Not just for this,” Cas gestures to his blotchy, tear stained face, “About everything. You...you fucking deserve better.”

“Cas, don’t-”

“No. It’s not fair.” Cas growls, leaning his head back so it thumps loudly against the wall. The noise makes Dean flinch, but Cas continues talking, “You know what, I grew up with a religious family. My father fucking promised me- he promised me that if I did good then good would come back to me. That is, until he found out I was gay. Maybe this is my punishment. I never really believed that God was a homophobe, but maybe he is. Maybe this is me getting what I deserve for being a _faggot_.”

“Castiel,” Dean snaps, grabbing Cas’ face in his hands, “Stop. Seriously, you know that’s crazy. This isn’t some sort of punishment for you liking guys. It’s just...this is just how life is sometimes. It’s not fair. But you can’t abandon your faith because of it. You know me, I don’t personally believe in that stuff, but Cas, you can’t just stop being faithful because life hits you hard. Remember what you said the night we met, ‘life is about perspective’? Just think, maybe this is an opportunity to test your strength.”

“I said that in the hopes I’d get laid,” Cas snaps angrily, “Not so you could use it against me in some fucking cosmic discussion about the unfairness of your death.”

There are tears stroking Cas’ cheeks again. Dean pulls him a little closer, “I don’t know what to say Cas. Shit happens. You gotta shuck it aside and move on, that’s the only way to survive.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Cas sobs loudly, burying his face in Dean’s collarbone, “Why can’t he take me instead? Why can’t he fucking take anyone else but you?”

“Cas stop it,” Dean scolds, “This isn’t going to change anything.”

“Fuck,” Cas begins wiping his eyes futilely again, “You’re ruining my life.”

Dean jerks back like he’s been slapped. He wasn’t expecting anything like that to come out of Castiel’s mouth.

“Shit, Dean,” Cas realizes what he said and quickly admonishes, “That’s not what I-”

“It’s fine Cas,” Dean replies gruffly, rising to his feet, “I understand, really. If I was you I would’ve run for the hills the morning I told you.”

“No!” Cas springs to his feet as Dean moves for the front door, blocking the exit, “Dean please. It’s just-so hard to picture you going, and I’ve been crying myself to sleep every night but it’s not you ruining my life. If anything you’ve made my life better, fuck Dean you make me so goddamn happy. Just...when we’re laughing and smiling and fucking and I start to realize I’m in love with you, I think about how it’s all going to be ripped away. And it’s hard,” his voice breaks on the last word, but he musters through, “Fuck Dean please, I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

“Cas…” Dean’s voice doesn’t pass above a whisper, as he leans in and presses his forehead against Castiel’s. He feels his own tears dampening Cas’ face, but neither of them care, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you,” Cas bawls, “I love you...I love you so much...it hurts Dean.”

“I love you too. Cas, look at me, I love you more...maybe we should see someone.”

Cas raises his head to stare directly into Dean’s eyes, “Huh?”

“A counselor or something,” Dean suggests, blinking away tears of his own, just at the sight of Cas broken down, “Help us through this.”

Cas nods a few times before he can actually find his voice, “Guess it could help.”

Dean gathers Cas into his arms. He’s too weak to pick him up like he wishes he could, but he is strong enough to crush Cas against his chest, stroke his damp hair and murmur, “It’s gonna be okay Cas. It’s all gonna be okay.”

**

It happens while Dean’s working on his car. It’s been around two months since Castiel’s major breakdown, and things have begun to settle down. Cas tried seeing a counselor a few times, but he told Dean it wasn’t helpful, and that he just wanted to be with Dean as the deadline grew closer. After all, they’ve only got six months left, and Dean has learned that it sounds longer than it actually is. Time has a way of sneaking up on you. Dean got all of his crap moved out of the apartment he, Sam and Jess had been sharing, and has been living with Cas for three and a half weeks.

Already, Cas has made him more comfortable and welcome than anyone else, which Dean is eternally grateful for. Today is a normal day, bright glittering Kansas sun shines down on the front yard. He’s halfway under his Impala, just finishing up changing the oil. His baby looks brand spankin’ new, with it’s fresh coat of paint and waxing. He’s about to roll out from under the car, when a sharp burst of pain daggers across his back and up into his neck. He gasps, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth a little.

He’s no stranger to aches across his body since he got sick -bad night sweats and fatigue are also part of the package- but this isn’t like usual. It’s agony targeted right at his lymph nodes and upper back. He gulps again and tries to move, but when he stretches his arms up, more pain shoots out over his body and they fall limp beside him. He looks down at his watch; Cas just got off work. He usually stays after a few minutes, and his commute is about a half hour.

Dean’s gonna be here a while.

*

Okay, so it isn’t his intention to fall asleep. But the ground is hot and soothing against his sore body, and the Impala is shielding his eyes from harsh sunlight, and he’s just so damn exhausted. So he lets his eyes droop shut, and he drifts into a restless slumber. And naturally, Cas picks this moment to arrive home. Dean’s in a half lucid, half dream state. His eyes are practically welded shut, and his breathing has slowed to a sleepy lull, probably hard to detect under his dark t-shirt. He’s lying completely still, as not to upset the pain in his body even more. He could pass for a zombie, and surely even a corpse.

 _Anyone_ would’ve reacted like Cas does.

“No!” shoes scrape across cement, but Dean can’t bring himself to open his eyes, “No! No no no! I’ve got six more months- it’s not time yet- Dean!”

Cas sounds so frantic and horrified and downright disbelieving, that Dean figures he should probably say something. His eyes flick open and he sees Cas kneeling above him outside the car, his face an ugly shade of white. His lips are a matching color, like he’s holding his breath.

“Hey Cas,” Dean greets him nonchalantly, “How was work?”

Cas’ breath comes out in a loud, contained whoosh, “I thought...you looked... Jesus fucking Christ.”

“No _p_ e,” Dean pops the “p” in the word, hoping to convey relaxation, “Still alive Cas, don’t worry. I’m not gonna go without giving you notice, I promise.”

Cas sucks in a trembling gulp of air and replies, “So what the hell are you doing sleeping under the car? Other than giving me a heart attack?”

Dean grins sheepishly, “Uh, here’s the thing. I was gonna roll out, I just finished changing the oil, see,” he holds up his black stained palms and wiggles them playfully, “But I couldn’t move- I got this bad pain in my back and neck. I uh, was hoping it would go away, and I think it did, but I sorta fell asleep while I was waiting.”

Cas scrapes his fingers through his thick hair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, “God Dean. Alright, here, need some help?”

He leans down a bit more and grips the dolly under Dean’s shoulders, pulling back with ease. Dean slides out from under the car and Cas grips him around the waist, helping him to his feet. There’s still the ghost of severing pain in his neck and back, but it’s nothing too troubling.

“Thanks Cas,” Dean tells him sincerely, “And, now that I’ve got your attention, wanna come to my funeral as my date?”

Cas pales all over again, his pink face melting into the color of Elmer’s glue, “Dean I don’t-”

“Don’t worry, “ Dean grins, “It’s more of a party really. My mom and my Uncle Bobby are throwing it, it’s like a Death Shower.”

Dean had been hoping his makeshift name would make this easier to swallow, but Castiel’s cringe and grimace lets him know it didn’t quite come out as euphemistic as he’d planned, “Right. Well, I don’t wanna have one of those depressing things after I die. Plus, I want to hear what good stuff people are gonna say about me, huh? What’dya say?”

Cas shakes his head, “I think it’s really strange, and probably unethical, but you’re Dean and those two words describe you perfectly. So, of course I’ll go as your date.”

Dean tugs Cas close and pats his head affectionately, “I knew you’d say yes!”

**

A week later, he and Cas are pulling up to his parent’s house. Is a big, white-columned, ten bedroom, ten bathroom estate that underprivileged kids dream of. It looks brand new, seriously modern, but it’s Dean’s childhood home, and he can see it in Castiel’s face that he’s surprised.

“This is…” Cas swallows, “Much bigger than my three bedroom.”

Dean chuckles soberly, “I probably should’ve mentioned that my parents are merchants. That’s why I’ve lived such a comfortable, cushioned life with all the things I need. This is where I grew up.”

Cas shakes his head, “This is the biggest house I’ve ever seen in Lawrence. You didn’t tell me you were rich.”

Dean’s face turns the color of a ripe tomato. He’s always hated, that word, no matter how studiously his parents said it. Neither Mary or John grew up with much, so they’d learned to appreciate having pride in their successful financial endeavors. Dean, on the other hand, prefers to speak modestly, “I’m not rich Cas. I haven’t done anything money-worthy, my parents have a lot of money.”

Cas looks at Dean and for a moment, his face is conflicted. If Dean were a mind reader, he’d dissect that expression to say a few things. Cas is thinking about how he grew up with nearly nothing, lost so much, and gained so little, while Dean has been living the good life with supportive, wealthy parents who are equally as healthy. Cas would shoot himself if anyone knew he’d been thinking it, but for a second, he lets himself think, _maybe Dean’s sick because he’s gotten everything he wants._ He shakes his head to clear it of that filthy thought, and is grateful that Dean’s thick-skulled enough not to notice.

Dean gets out of the car and crosses it to open the door for Cas, who gets out with a grateful smile. Dean slips his hand into Castiel’s, and they begin walking up the long, rock pathway to the grand, marble front porch.

“You’re sure your parents are okay with...us?” Cas inquires hesitantly.

Dean rolls his eyes as he uses his free hand to ring the doorbell, “Of course Cas. Don’t be nervous, my parents love me no matter who I date.”

“I can’t believe we’re going to your funeral together,” Cas grumbles, gnawing on his lower lip, “This is so wrong you know.”

Dean chuckles, “There’s a lot wrong with me.” Cas is about to respond, but one of the french doors swings open, and Mary Winchester appears, clad in a pair of blue shorts and a sequined green bikini top. Her wispy blonde hair is tucked into a neat bun, and little ringlets fall freely around her angular face.

“Mom!” Dean leans in, and Mary gathers him tightly into his arm.

“Hey darlin’!” She replies happily in her familiar, kind voice, “How are you baby?”

“I’m great Mom, super excited to hear the eulogy,” Dean teases, and Cas looks at him in horror. Mary just laughs light-heartedly.

“I see where you get your sense of humor,” Cas tells him quietly, shuddering at the sick joke.

Mary’s eyes travel down to where Dean and Cas have linked hands, and Dean notices Cas fidget nervously. Mary seems to observe this as well. “You must be Castiel,” she says warmly, “I have heard great things about you kiddo. C’mere,” she yanks him in for a hug as well, startling him.

It clearly takes him a moment to reciprocate the hug, but once he does, she pulls back and says, “You’re very special to Dean, you know that?”

“Mom please,” Dean’s face is hot and red all over again, “Is everyone here yet?”

“Yep, everyone’s inside. Oh gosh, I forgot to tell Lucinda to set out the cheese and wine! I’ll meet you guys in there!” she whirls on her bare feet and treads quickly back into the house.

“Lucinda?” Cas asks Dean as he follows him inside.

“Housekeeper,” Dean explains, gesturing for Cas to take off his shoes as Dean’s begun to do himself. Cas quickly obliges, and then looks up at the entrance of the house. The tall, winding staircase that’s settled in the middle of the walkway is the same pearly white as the columns outside, and the polished, glistening tile floors match them as well. Classic, but comfortable looking plush furniture litters the area, giving the wide expanse of home a cozy feeling.

“C’mon,” Dean urges, taking Cas’ hand and leading him effortlessly through the house, “Everyone should be out by the pool.”

When they reach the seven foot, glass sliding doors, Dean can see that it doesn’t matter about the wine and cheese plates. Lucinda and his mother have already set out countless trays of food and drink -alcoholic and non- across the perimeter of the pool. Some of Dean’s friends and family are already in the water, Sam, and his two year old son Shay are already wading around, Shay sitting content on his father’s broad shoulders as Sam patrols the shallow end. Dean’s uncle Bobby and his wife Ellen are sitting pool side, speaking in depth with John, while their daughter Jo and Dean’s best friend Benny chat closely from two chaise lounges. Dean’s other best friend Charlie and her girlfriend Meg, are playing chicken with his aunt Pamela and Sam’s wife Jess. There’s a huge banner strung up across the roof of the gazebo that reads “ _Goodbye Dean!_ ”

“Oh wow,” Cas says, as he follows Dean’s lead and shrugs out of his shirt, leaving both of them in swimming trunks, “Your whole family’s got this sick sense of humor.”

Dean grins, and throws a sloppy kiss against Castiel’s lips, “Get used to it baby, these are my people.” Dean walks Cas around the pool to where Bobby, Ellen and his dad are sitting. Upon their arrival, John rises and pats Dean’s arm affectionately.

“Hey son!” he greets him, smiling cheerily, “How are you? Oh, is this him?”

Dean nods and pulls Cas a bit closer, “Dad, Uncle Bobby, Aunt Ellen, this is my boyfriend Cas.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” John says sincerely, shaking Castiel’s hand with vigor, “We’ve all heard great things about you.”

Cas’ cheeks turn a soft, bright pink, “Thank you sir, it’s really great to finally meet you too. Likewise, about the kind words.”

“I like this one Dean,” John compliments, “Got a good head.”

Dean leans in, pressing his lips against Castiel’s ear and whispering almost silently, “ _Gives_ good head too.”

Flustered, Cas pushes him away and hopes to God that none of the Winchesters heard him. “You’re disgusting,” he tells Dean in a hushed voice, but he can’t help but giggle suggestively.

Soon enough, the entire clan of Winchesters and Winchester allies -as Dean affectionately calls his friends behind their backs- gather around the pool, where Mary stands at the top platform, preparing to give a hopefully cheerful eulogy.

“Dean,” she says reverently, “What can I say? You’re my first born son. I love you so much honey, you mean the absolute world to me and your father, and you know we’d all do anything for you. You’ve made such an impact on everyone here, you do that with everyone you meet Dean. You, you leave a mark on people. Because you are special.” she swipes under her eyes, where a few drops of tears have collected. John jogs up and hugs an arm around her waist, urging her to continue, “You’re the most special person I’ll ever know, and I’m lucky to have a son like you. I...I don’t know why this happened, why you got sick, I guess sometimes bad things just happen to good people. But, when you leave this world, you’re going to do it knowing that you changed the lives of so many of us.” she raises her wine glass, and everyone but Dean does the same, “To Dean. My wonderful son.”

They all toast him, which leaves him sheepish and blushing, but he’s basking the attention. Next up are John and Bobby, who give very heartfelt, but gruff speeches about how Dean’s grown up to be an exemplary young man. Ellen and Pamela, both teary-eyed and emotional, deliver long, bittersweet rants about how much they love him and how he’s going to a better place. Jo, Charlie, Meg and Benny are all very light and friendly and teasing, with undertones of sincerity.

Sam and Jess give their words together, hugging Shay close while Jess promises, “He’s not going to forget you. You’re always going to be his uncle, his favorite uncle.”

That of course makes Dean blubber like an embarrassed baby, and hug her so hard he swears he hears a rib crack. And then, it’s Cas’ turn. He shakily steps up, clutching his wine glass tight against his bare, pool-dampened stomach. Clearly nervous, he chugs half his glass before speaking.

“I’ve only known Dean for about four months, not nearly as long as any of you, to be shamefully admitted. But, I can say this: Dean has touched my heart in more ways than anyone whom I could’ve known for a lifetime. The night we met, wasn’t exactly your average fairy tale story. I didn’t expect I’d ever see him again, and when he told me he...had a deadline, I was almost certain we wouldn’t stay together. But, of course, Dean made even considering breaking things off an impossibility of astronomical proportions. He’s just...he’s not like other people, Dean Winchester. He’s a different breed, a different species, all on his own. He’s the most fascinating, complex, and confusing person I’ve ever met. But, he’s so damn incredible that I can’t seem to be troubled by the whirlwind of emotion he causes. Dean is something superior to us, whatever we are, and I’m so blessed to have leapt into his life. So...Dean,” Cas raises his glass, hands no longer shaking, “I’d like to toast you, for being my summer during ten months of winter. I will never stop loving you, even long after we’re both gone.”

Teary, sniffling Winchesters and Winchester Allies raise their glasses and take trembling sips of their wine. Dean, whose vision is blurred by his own tears, briefly notices his mother sobbing against his father’s bare chest. Meg and Charlie have linked hands, and are comforting eachother quietly. Benny and Jo have drained their glasses, and are now stoically searching for more. Bobby, Ellen, Sam, and Jess are huddled in a tight line, leaning on each other for support. Dean, who’d previously been standing in the middle of his friends and family, sprints up the side steps to the top of the pool that overlooks the yard, and grabs Cas. Cas’ glass slips from his hand as Dean crushes himself against his boyfriend, mashing their lips together with rough, unsolicited passion.

“I love you,” Dean pants, face inches away from his lover’s.

Cas nods a few times, sniffling himself, “I love you too Dean. I love you.”

For a second, their water eyes lock. Castiel’s sapphire gaze casts over Dean’s jade irises and there’s an unfathomable moment where they’re the only people there. Everything is made up of Cas and Dean. They absorb all that is around them, and Dean can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Castiel, who envelops his entire world and makes the rest of it seem so fucking inconsequential. Then, Dean wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and looks back at his sobbing party guests, “Alright guys!” he calls, getting their attention, “Enough bawling. This is a party.”

Jo raises her new glass of wine and whoops, “That’s right Winchester! You’re going out in style!”

Soon enough, the party atmosphere returns, and Dean sticks by Cas the whole time. Tackling him into the pool, pressing kisses to his soaked hair, playing marco polo with everyone, and having a damn good time.

“This is the best funeral I’ve ever been to,” Cas grins as he pops up from underwater and splashes Dean.

Dean’s laugh bellows, “That’s cause I’m here!”

“That’s right,” Cas nods and presses his chest against Dean’s, kissing him softly as pool water passes between their lips, “You’re here. Right here, right now. And that’s all that matters.”

**

“C’mon Cas,” Dean insists, a grin plastered across his face as he rolls over in bed, staring up at his boyfriend with puppy dog eyes of epic proportions, “Let’s just do it.”

“Dean,” Cas chuckles, amused at Dean’s endearing antics, “I have work, I can’t just pick up and take a trip to France.”

Dean pouts, “I’ve only got two months left. I’ve always wanted to go to France Cas. Go with me, I don’t want to go alone. I love you. My 27th birthday is tomorrow, c’mon aren’t you happy?”

“It’s becoming unbearable to say no to that face,” Cas admits, sighing, “Fine! I’ll take a week off work, and we’ll go to Paris Dean. But only because I love you so much.”

Dean scooches up in bed, pleased with how the past eight months have been, “C’mere cutie.”

Cas obliges, leaning down to plant a warm kiss to Dean’s lips before whispering, “I want you.”

Dean purrs teasingly, “Well, by all means Cas, let me take care of you.”

Dean slides over in bed so he’s straddling Cas at the waist, running a hand down from the center of Castiel’s chest all the way to the waistband of his boxers. Dean’s fingers slip in, and his bony hand wraps around Castiel’s half-hard cock. Cas gasps, chest expanding as Dean begins to slowly pull his pants down with one hand, while running his touch over the length of Cas’ erect dick. Dean continues this until Cas is completely hard, and then he leans over his boyfriend’s flushed body, taking all of him in his mouth. Cas lets out a low, soft groan as Dean bobs his head along the shaft of his cock, using his tongue to trace tingling shapes along the head. The flat part of his tongue slowly smooths it’s way along the underside of Castiel’s shaft, folding into an “o” as it gathers around his head. It doesn’t take long for Cas’ groin to give a sharp jerk, and he releases in Dean’s mouth, watching Dean’s jaw tense and his neck strain as he dutifully swallows the majority of his load.

“I love you,” Cas breathes, hands fumbling in his nightstand for the lube. When he retrieves it, Dean snatches it from him and begins to soak his fingers in it, gently rolling Castiel on his stomach. Dean wiggles out of his own boxers before pressing up close to Cas and slowly sliding one finger into his entrance. A long string of moans and tender sighs escape Cas’ mouth, and he grips the sheets for stability as Dean inserts another finger, pumping both in and out to prepare Cas for the real deal.

“You doin’ okay?” Dean asks in that familiar, rough but comforting voice he always has when he’s getting Castiel’s consent.

Cas nods, rocking his hips back almost desperately, “Perfect Dean. I’m ready, I need it now.”

“Needy,” Dean smiles, but proceeds to slicken Cas’ entrance with lube, rubbing a bit of it on his own cock, which makes him grunt softly and lick his lips.

Seconds later, he enters Cas, filling him up without hesitance. Cas huffs out a sharp breath as pleasure bites it’s way through his body, and Dean begins to gradually pump in even strokes. Dean’s hands course all over Cas’ body, fingers rubbing his sides, kneading his plump, round ass cheeks and even stroking the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Each expanse of touch sends chills across Castiel’s skin, and he pushes back against Dean’s thrusts, cooing Dean’s name and begging for more. Dean slowly rolls his hips against Castiel’s ass, biting down on his lip as Cas’ skin encloses around him. His breathing is erratic as he focuses on the feeling of Castiel’s tight walls and soft, supple skin against his cock.

“You like this baby?” Dean pants unevenly, his thrusts becoming sloppier, “This feel good?"

“A-amazing,” Cas purrs, feeling his finish as it approaches, “You’re incredible.”

“I love you,” Dean moans, as he shoots his hot load up Castiel’s ass, and finishes out his orgasm with a few final juts of his hips. Cas follows suit, groaning and heaving out Dean’s name and cumming like he’s never done before. It takes them a moment to detangle, and catch their breath, and when they do, Dean pulls out and flops beside Cas on the bed.

“I love you too,” Cas responds, pressing a sloppy kiss to Dean’s damp forehead.

Dean sighs and rises from the bed, padding nude into the bathroom. He returns minutes later with two wash cloths, “Cleanup time.”

Dean and Cas proceed to clean each other off, slowly and meticulously scrubbing each other clean with wet rags, which turns out to be a surprisingly erotic experience. Sensuality is Dean’s specialty it seems. Dean and Cas crawl under the covers together, pressing their lips against one another softly and slowly.

“I’m so glad I have you in my life,” Dean whispers as he flicks off his bedside lamp and plunges them into darkness, “I couldn’t do this so easily without you.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to be happy when I lose you.” Cas murmurs, nuzzling his nose into Dean’s neck.

“You’ll be alright.” Dean promises tenderly, “Things are going to change, you’ll meet someone else. It will get easier.”

“There’s never going to be anyone else,” Cas responds in a crushed whisper, “It’ll always be you.”

“Stop that Cas,” Dean shakes his head, “This ain’t a Nicholas Sparks book. That shit ain’t real at all. You’re gonna move on, and that’s okay. That’s healthy. You aren’t bound to one person forever, okay? I promise you, I give you my word, you will be happy again.”

“I hope you’re right,” Cas mumbles.

“I am right Cas,” Dean assures him, pulling him close and cuddling him, “I swear. Happiness comes in waves, it’s attached to people, and you’re going to meet more people. This isn’t the end.”

“I hate that we do this,” Castiel manages, “You’re always comforting me.”

“You deserve my comfort, and you need it more than I do. I’m the one who’s dying, so I won’t feel the loss.”

Cas sighs, “I will Dean. But that’s okay. We still have two months. We still have time.”

“Time runs out,” Dean reminds him quietly, “Don’t forget that Cas, you can’t delude yourself.”

“I know Dean,” Cas pacifies him, “goodnight.”

“Night Cas. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

_We still have time._

**

Sunlight streams through the windows, making Castiel squint as he awakens. Dean is sleeping peacefully beside him in bed, rolled over on his stomach with his face planted in the pillow. Cas smiles at that, and carefully gets out of bed, making sure not to jostle it. He’s planned a whole day today for Dean’s twenty seventh birthday. He’s mostly just happy that Dean made it to his birthday, it was a goal they’d both set hopefully. And like Dean does with everything, he succeeded. Cas dresses in his pajamas and pads down the stairs to begin breakfast in bed for Dean. He cooks up blueberry pancakes, bacon and orange juice with an omelette. Dean may be sick, but he’s always going to be a big eater. Cas treks up the stairs, expecting Dean to be awake upon his entrance. Dean usually gets up right after Cas, and it took Cas at least an hour to make the breakfast. Dean’s still asleep though, in the same position he was an hour ago. He must be exhausted from last night’s events. Sex has become a less frequent thing between the two of them, as Dean grows weaker. And Cas bottomed last night, which ultimately means Dean did more work. But still, he knows Dean won’t mind being woken up if it’s for breakfast.

“Dean,” Cas coos, carrying the tray around the bed and setting it on the night table, “Wake up baby. Happy birthday.”

Dean rolls over, grumbling something about Cas being a bastard and swinging his fists insincerely.

“Happy birthday butthole,” Cas tells him jokingly, poking his face with a freshly washed index finger.

Dean rubs his eyes and rolls over to stare up at Cas, “You look so beautiful in the morning.”

“You look dumb, as always.” Cas teases, “I made you breakfast birthday boy.”

That’s enough to get him sitting upright. He grins groggily at his sleep tussled partner, who in turn blushes and smiles back.

“So?” Cas says as he sets the tray on Dean’s lap, “You’re 27. We’re going to France. How do you feel?”

Dean pulls Cas down beside him on the bed and plants a chaste kiss on his lips, “Like I’ve got the most amazing boyfriend on Earth.”

Cas nuzzles up to Dean and they share the breakfast together, moaning from the taste -Cas has always been an exemplary cook- and just enjoying the company. They have plans with Dean’s family later, and unlike the usual extravagant Winchester gatherings, Dean’s requested something small. Family only, modest location, just a nice, quiet dinner with his loved ones.

They finish eating and move the morning rituals into the bathroom, where Castiel offers Dean a nice hot shower. Dean of course, accepts this offer eagerly, and they pad into the bathroom together, Cas spanking Dean’s already nude ass as they laugh and enjoy the intimacy of each other.

** 

"Hey Cas?” Dean says an hour later, through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Yeah?” Cas responds over the sound of his blow dryer.

Dean spits, rinses, and moves to the doorway of the bathroom, face still flushed red from the hot shower sex he’d just been involved in, “What are you gonna do with Baby after I’m gone?”

Cas purses his lips and thinks for a moment, “I kinda wanted to keep her. I don’t know anyone else who will take as good care of her as I will.”

Dean quirks an eyebrow up, “Cas, you never remember to change your oil or wash your car. You’ve also been in three fender benders in the past two years.”

Cas rolls his eyes, “That’s my Honda, I could care less about that thing. The Impala is a different breed. I know how you like it kept and cared for.”

“She’s in great condition,” Dean argues as he slips out of his towel and begins to dress in his casual-fancy attire, “You could get a lot of cash selling her.”

“Why don’t you want me to keep her?” Cas demands as he finished drying his mane of raven hair and fixes it into the right position with a little gel and prodding.

“I just think it’ll be another bad memory you don’t need hanging around,” Dean answers tentatively, buttoning his shirt with careful but quick fingers.

Cas approaches him, pressing his bare, damp chest against Dean’s clothed one, “Who says the memories will be bad? I’ll think of the late night talks we have while we sit in the McDonalds parking lot and pig out on fries and apple pie. I’ll think of blasting crappy rock music -don’t look at me like that ACDC is terrible- and singing loudly even though I don’t know the words. I’ll think of fucking you in the backseat and feeling your hot skin against mine in a tight space. I’ll think of your green eyes in the mirror when you don’t even try to hide the fact that you’re checking yourself out.” Cas mushes a soft kiss to Dean’s jaw, “Every memory of you is a good one.”

Dean chuckles and pushes Cas away gently, “You’re a big sap, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me.”

Dean grins, “That and everything else.”

*

*

Later that night they arrive at the restaurant -some decent steak house that Mary picked because Dean let her take the reigns- and find the Winchesters already sitting down. Sam, Jess and Shay are seated on one side, across from Mary and John. They’ve already got drinks, red wine and white wine and some sort of juice for Shay, but there’s no food yet.

“Okay, so you’ve met my family a few times.” Dean warns Cas as they approach the table, “but Winchester birthdays can be a little unconventional.”

“How so?” Cas asks nervously. He’s already learned that the Winchester have a sick sense of humor and very outgoing personalities, how much different could it get?

“Well firstly we don’t do gifts in the usual way,” he says as they get closer to the table, “you tell them what you want and they get it for you after the celebration. You go with them to get it, it’s uh...my dad’s idea. He’s always disliked getting people gifts because he wasn’t sure if they would like it, and he hated getting gifts he had no use for. So, he and my mom did it when Sam and I were kids and the idea sorta spread through our whole family and became tradition.”

Cas shakes his head, “You are the most unique, fascinating and wonderful people I know.”

Dean laughs, “Thanks. Hey guys!”

They’re welcomed warmly by the family, and they take their places beside John and Mary. Conventional greetings are made, food is ordered, and things commence as usual.

“So Dean,” John says pleasantly as he takes a bite of his filet mignon, “present time.”

“It’s a special birthday this year,” Mary tells him, smiling widely, “What do you want?”

Dean’s very familiar with this exchange. He’s had it every birthday since he was a kid, but he remembers never asking for things too extravagant. He figures other people would find this awkward, but his family has never been ordinary.

“We want to go to France,” he admits, “Cas and me talked about it.”

Sam grins fondly, “Jess and I went to Paris for our honeymoon, we loved it huh?”

Jess nods in agreement, “Nice choice Dean. It’s a romantic city.”

Cas glances nervously at Dean’s parents, and Dean knows what he’s going to ask even before he says it, “I hope this request isn’t too much...It’s awfully expensive to travel and I wouldn’t want to-”

“Cas don’t sweat it,” John grins and pats his hand calmly, “we’d love to do this for you guys.”

Dean smiles, looking at his feet. He really is a lucky son of a bitch.

-

-

Their flight leaves at 3 A.M on a Friday.

Granted, Dean’s never been a morning person, especially the time of morning when the sun is dormant, but he’s in a goddamn good mood. Cas and he are wrapped up tight in warm clothes with suitcases tucked at their sides as they make their way through the terminal. There’s an hour delay, but then they’re permitted to board the plane. Cas fidgets anxiously in their first class seats. Dean notices the apprehensive glint in his azure eyes, and he keeps gnawing on his lower lip like he can’t wait to land.

“Nervous flier?” Dean demands incredulously; Cas is one tough son of a bitch, who’d expect him to be scared of flying metal tubes?

Cas scowls, “I’ve never been on a plane Dean. It’s not natural.”

Dean laughs quietly, “Not natural?” “Humans are not supposed to fly, okay?”

Grinning, Dean nods, “Of course. My mistake.”

Cas makes a petulant grumble and stuffs his headphones in, glaring out the window. Dean watches him with a slight smile; the way his sharp jaw clenches when he’s nervous or annoyed, the way his long, dark lashes brush softly against his cheeks as they frame his glistening blue eyes. He’s so beautiful, even in the most ugly moments. Dean often finds himself staring, unable to look away from the contours of his lover’s exterior. He wishes there were a way he could tell Cas how infinite he looks sometimes. How the glow of his ivory skin and the tangle of his raven hair makes Dean think he will last forever. How when he loses himself in the multifaceted glint of Castiel’s eyes, he can’t imagine a world where they don’t exist.

Dean wonders if sometimes Cas has these thoughts about him. After all, it’s not Cas who’s dying in two months. Perhaps Cas sometimes can’t believe that Dean is going to be gone in a matter of weeks. Perhaps he thinks about a world without Dean and pretends he’s dreaming that idea up. Maybe he’s just like Dean in the sense that he can’t fathom living without his partner.

Either way, it’s not good for either of them.

 

-

France is beautiful. The sunset is a brilliant blood- orange (okay, let’s not be pretentious, it’s fucking red) and the streets are lined with handsome citizens, speaking one of the prettiest, most unintelligible languages Dean’s ever heard. He admires the buildings as they speed past in a blur, the loud music playing on stone street corners, and the amazing smells of cafes and bakeries as they pass. The hotel is just as amazing. Naturally, Dean’s parents set up the best for their son. Their room, or suite more appropriately, is incredible. There’s a giant, four-pillared king sized bed, an amazing view of the city, and some expensive features.

“This is wonderful,” Cas says, grinning as they enter, “your parents don’t half-ass anything do they?”

Dean laughs, “Definitely not. So I’m thinking shower, dinner, and then we’ll get some sleep and explore tomorrow?”

Cas nods, “I could get on board with that.”

-

Dean likes a good burger, but he’s never had fucking ratatouille until now and that was a mistake. He could probably get this in America he’s sure, but still, it’s amazing nonetheless. He’s practically moaning halfway through, and Cas is laughing the whole time. They finish dinner at a little outdoor cafe, and then walk around the city with gelato. Dean gets tired after a half hour, and they end up heading back to the hotel.

“That was nice,” Cas says with an eager grin as they re-enter the hotel room, “But I’ve got something better planned.”

Dean quirks an eyebrow up with interest, “Oh yeah?”

Cas grabs his duffel and begins shuffling through it, “I got them on your birthday but I figured I’d wait until we got here to try it out. A little more...exciting I guess.”

A smirk splits across his face as he gathers up bundles of fabric and a little round thing that is unfamiliar to Dean. Cas spreads them across the bed, giving Dean a good look. Oh. Cas has packed a pair of pink lace panties, a pink garter belt, and pink thigh-high stockings. The little blue toy becomes inherently visible as a butt plug as Dean squints a little closer.

He looks up at Cas, “these are for me?”

Cas’ eyes settle seriously on Dean’s face, “I liked them a lot.”

Dean glances back at the spread, then smiles salaciously, “So do I.”

“Put them on.” Cas tells him seriously.

Excited chills dance up Dean’s spine as he slowly unbuttons his shirt and slips it off his shoulders. He can feel Cas’ eyes on him as he shimmies out of his slacks and boxers, replacing them with the skin-pinching lace. The panties slide up over his ass cheeks and collect at his waist. The fabric, although unfamiliar, isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, within moments of sliding the lace over his skin, his cock is beginning to take notice with interest. Ever-so-slowly, he rolls the stockings up on his legs and connects the carter belt to them. They squeeze at his thighs in all the right ways, and the frame the shape of his calves differently than any outfit ever has. The pink contrasts with his tanned skin, freckles peeking out under the thin fabric. He turns a little, so he’s facing Cas, and takes in the aroused expression on his lover’s face.

“You look…” Cas seems to be at a loss, “indescribable.”

“Prove it,” Dean murmurs with a slight smile.

Cas steps toward him, the pads of his fingers running down Dean’s bare chest until they reach the waistline of his panties. He shudders, stroking his index along the soft skin at Dean’s waist. Then, he removes his own shirt, and presses their bare chests together.

“You’re amazing.” he whispers against Dean’s neck, his voice husky.

Dean moans into Cas’ skin, and then lowers himself to his knees. He reaches out and unbuttons Castiel’s belt, slowly sliding his black pants down to his ankles. Dean can already see the tight fabric of his boxer shorts clinging to his erection, and his legs are weak with arousal. Grinning, Dean slowly peels the damp cotton away from Cas’ cock, revealing it. He leans in, and kisses the head where a slight amount of pre-cum has already begun to gather. Cas shivers and lets out a small moan, pleading. Dean glides his tongue over the slit that reveals the moisture coming from Cas, and then proceeds to drag his tongue up and down the shaft of his lover’s hard cock. His tongue traces the prominent veins that bulge out against his skin, and his mouth molds into a circular shape as he trains his tongue on the head. Cas is shaking now, gripping the bedsheets behind him as Dean moans against his dick, the vibrations only adding to the feeling of Dean’s mouth against him. Just when Dean thinks he’s got Cas on the edge, he pops his mouth of and drags his tongue once more over his slit. Cas lets out a broken moan and watches Dean rise to his feet, smirking cockily.

“Tease,” Cas pants, chest heaving with his arousal.

“I’m a horrible tease,” Dean replies softly, “you oughtta punish me.”

Cas grabs him around the waist, fingers digging into the lace material that frames Dean’s waist as he brings Dean down on to the bed with him. The white sheets envelope their bodies as Cas strokes his hands across Dean, positioning him on his hands and knees. Dean shudders as Cas’ fingers slowly rub along the clothed length of his entrance. His palm rears back and whizzes against Dean’s exposed ass, leaving a hot, stinging feeling.

“More,” Dean moans, the pleasure and pain combining in a way that makes his legs tremble. Cas spanks him again, harder this time. Dean’s sure there’s going to be a red mark there tomorrow morning. Head buried in the pillows, ass in the air, Dean can only hear the bottle of lube as it’s being squirted out. Then, something slides underneath his underwear, and Cas’ fingers are inside him. He shudders as Cas pops in a third finger and rhythmically pumps them up into Dean’s entrance. The panites are pinching at his erect cock now, as his skin strains against the material. Cas’ fingers are suddenly gone, and he’s slowly dragging the panties down Dean’s bent legs. They gather at his ankles, and Cas strokes a wet finger up Dean’s garter-clad thigh all the way until he’s spanking him again.

Dean whimpers, “Cas...I need it..” he groans, his hard cock and throbbing hole begging for release.

“Damn right you do,” Cas murmurs, as he leans over and strokes Dean’s cock from behind. Dean cries out, his neglected dick responding instantly to the sudden touch. “That’s right baby,” Cas moans, as he positions himself up behind Dean and tenderly slides in. Dean can feel his entrance stretch around Cas’ erection, which only makes it that much more pleasant. Ecstasy blinds him as Cas’ body slams against his back, cock pounding into his ass as his hands methodically stroke Dean’s dick. His fingers are amazing, massaging his erection in all the right places, and his hips grind hard against Dean’s skin, pumping deep and hard inside Dean’s walls.

It’s not long after the combination of thrusting and stroking and whimpering that Dean cums. He jerks forward, cock spurting over his legs, staining the stockings and panties with white. Cas follows suit, grinding up hard into Dean as he fills him with his cum. He pulls out almost instantly, but a second later, Dean’s full again. Cas eases the plug into his ass, fitting his cheeks around it and grinning.

“That feel good baby?” he asks Dean, slapping his ass once with pride.

Dean nods, sighing out as he struggles to hold himself up, “amazing Cas.”

“Worth the wait,” Cas admits as he falls on the bed next to Dean and plucks at his garter, fingers trailing lazily over Dean’s freckled skin, “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks Cas.” he whispers in response, as Cas leans over and presses his lips against a collection of freckles on Dean’s thigh, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“France is awesome.”

Cas laughs breathlessly, “We haven’t even explored yet.”

“Exactly. Imagine how cool tomorrow will be.”

-

The next day proves to be just as cool as Dean had hoped. He and Cas visit the eiffel tower -which in reality is a little anticlimactic, but awesome nonetheless- they see a plethora of statues and monuments, and even get to stop at a few art museums. Castiel is especially excited about The Louvre, and Dean swears he cries when they approach the Mona Lisa.

“She’s beautiful.” Cas says in awe as they stand in front of the painting, “Look how incredible Dean.”

Dean doesn’t see what’s so special about a painting of a cute chick, but he doesn’t want to spoil Cas’ excitement, “Yeah Cas. That Da Vinci guy knew what he was doing.”

Cas laughs slightly, “I guess he did.” That night they eat dinner at some fancy restaurant that Dean can’t pronounce the name of. The food is delicious, and the wine is even better, so he doesn’t complain about the incoherent ramblings that are the menu items.

“Thank you for this,” Cas tells him as he sips his wine, the dim light casting lovely rays in his cerulean eyes, “this vacation. Being with you here...it’s kind of like a dream.”

Dean smiles, “I know it’s cliche, I feel like that Hazel Grace chick. But, I never got to travel the world, which is kind of a regret of mine.”

Cas hesitates, “What else do you regret?”

Grinning, Dean responds, “Well, not asking Cassie Robinson to the prom. That girl had it going on.”

“What stopped you?”

“I was already taking Lisa Braeden.”

Cas quirks an eyebrow up, “Busy boy were you?”

“You think? I wonder where they are now.”

“Probably downtrodden and miserable,” Cas says bluntly.

“Don’t hold back there Cas, jeez.”

He shrugs, “Other regrets?”

Dean bites his lip, “Not opening a mechanics garage. I always wanted to. I was gonna call it _Dean’s Machines_.”

“That’s cute, why didn’t you?”

He sighs, shaking his head, “Too afraid. Thought I wouldn’t succeed. I was afraid...I was afraid that later in life I’d end up poor and homeless because of it.” he fiddles with his napkin, “well, it’s later in life and I should’ve taken that chance.”

Cas settles his hand over Dean’s comfortingly, “What else?” Dean ponders this for a moment, then replies, “My hatred.”

“What do you mean?”

“All of the people I’ve lost to anger. All of the grudges I’ve held because I was too immature to forgive...that is my biggest regret. Losing opportunities and good people because I was too consumed by selfishness to make good decisions. Not just with big things either,” he shakes his head again, “It happens everyday, you know? Someone cuts you off in traffic, and you shout at them. Anger spent on something inconsequential. You get cut in line and you pout for an hour because it took you a few extra minutes to get coffee. An hour of your finite life wasted with useless, unrequited anger. Or not taking my eyes off my phone long enough to look around me. Missing chances and human interaction because of some weird social construct that doesn’t even fucking matter when it comes down to it.”

He takes a swig of wine and looks into Cas’ eyes, “not taking advantage of things. Missing out on so many experiences because I took life for granted. For a while I thought I’d live forever. Or when I died it wouldn’t last. But then I realized death isn’t a hiatus, it’s forever. And the only way to get through that is to surround yourself with good people and try to live as best as you can.”

“Wow,” Cas mumbles softly, “that’s profound Dean.”

“Cas, you’re not a regret. I’m sad that I’ll be leaving you alone after I pass but...you’re not a regret.”

“I’m very glad.” Cas wipes at his eyes, which are now moist with tears, “I-I’m glad you feel that way Dean. You’re not a regret either.”

They lock hands, and Dean says, “That’s damn good Cas. Now don’t cry, let’s go check out that bad ass fountain we saw downtown.”

Cas nods, smiling and blinking his eyes dry, “I’m so fucking lucky to have your love.”

“Ditto Cas, now stop blubbering, let’s have a good time.”

-

Sadly, the trip ends on Thursday and they’re boarding another plane. Cas seems a little less nervous this time, but Dean strokes his back and mumbles comforting things to him anyway. He appears to appreciate it.

The flight leaves Dean worn out, and as soon as they get home he collapses on the bed in a heap. Lassitude overhwhelms him, and he succumbs to exhaustion, falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. He sleeps through the night and awakens to an empty bed. Yawning, he stretches out his aching body and grimaces at the especially sore feeling in his lymph nodes. This is odd, usually he’s up before Cas. He slowly moves, climbing out of bed and groaning at the tired aches that possesses his body. He’s not used to this much soreness, his lymphoma is attacking him especially hard today. He makes it down the stairs, where Cas is sitting on the counter with a cup of coffee and a book.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he says to Dean.

Dean glances at the clock and realizes it’s noon, “Wow, I slept in.”

“Sure did. Trip must’ve worn you out. You hungry?”

Dean shakes his head, leaning heavily against the wall as his chest tightens a little. Since when is he so tired?

Cas frowns, setting down his book, “You’re not hungry? You? Are you feeling alright?”

Dean moves towards him, hoping to ease his nerves with a kiss, but his legs betray him. He wobbles forward and falls against the tile, cursing as black spots dance across his vision.

“Dean!” Cas’ socks are in his face, but he hardly cares. There’s more pain zinging across his back and neck now, and he can’t move.

He gasps weakly, and Cas exclaims, “I’m calling 911!”

Dean lets out a grumbled complaint of resistance, but his words slowly die out as his voice grows weaker and his blurry sight is enveloped with black.

-

He’s attached to a heart monitor, and an IV, both of which make him more nervous than he figures he should be. He’s vaguely aware of voices speaking quietly, solemnly, but they still think he’s asleep.

He listens with his eyes closed, as the doctor’s voice becomes more clear, “...visible that the diseases progression has sped up rapidly.”

“That’s impossible,” sounds like Dean’s mom, “he’s been fine.”

“Illness is very tricky ma’am. We can never predict when someone is going to go south. Besides, he’s been fairly active these past eight months, who’s to say that didn’t help the illness spread and become worse? We’ve got him stabilized...but I’d give him a few days at most.”

“No,” this is Cas’ voice, “no we’ve got two months. Two more months. How could this happen? He has two more months.”

“I’m sorry sir...I’d advise you both to say your goodbyes while you can. We’re keeping him here until he- until something changes.”

“No no this disease has a high cure rate,” Cas is rambling again, “how come he’s dying from it? You’re a doctor! Fix him!”

“Everyone’s different sir, you’re going to have to accept this. I’ll...I’ll leave you two alone with him. Let me know if you need anything, I’ll be back to check in later.”

“Cas,” Dean pushes his tired eyes open and looks up at his mother and his boyfriend.

“Dean hi,” Cas is at his side in an instant, grabbing his hand and squeezing, “how are you feeling?”

“Peachy,” Dean tries for a smile, “So a few days huh? At most?”

Mary has tears in her eyes, “I...I guess so sweetie. We’re gonna be here the whole time though. I promise you.”

“Thanks Mom, appreciate that. I’m sorry Cas, looks like my deadline came a little closer than we thought.”

“How can this be?” Cas whispers, “You were...you were doing great. Up and around...talking and laughing, you even looked like you gained a bit more weight… I swear Dean you were better.”

“I think you just wanted to believe I was,” Dean tells him quietly, “I’ve not been improving Cas. This was inevitable.”

“Dean I’m gonna get your brother and father.” Mary says softly, “I’ll be back in a few hours, okay honey?”

Dean nods, “Thank you.”

She’s gone just as quickly as she came. But Cas is still here, gripping his hand and breathing evenly through his nose.

“It’s gonna be okay Cas,” Dean promises softly, “we’ve been preparing for this for eight months, y’know?”

“I’m not ready,” Cas whispers, “I’m not ready to let you go.”

“You don’t have to let me go, alright? I’ll just be a memory, and that’s okay to keep. But promise me you won’t...you won’t shut down, okay? My mom’s gonna need you. You’ll need each other. But you’ll be okay.”

“Dean I can’t,” Cas is crying now, tears streaking down his blotchy red cheeks, “everything is gray but you. You’re this bright splotch of color in a bleak painting and I can’t lose that. I know it’s selfish but I need that color Dean. I need you.”

“Find colors in other things,” Dean murmurs, “You can do that much Cas.”

Cas clutches at the little silver cross around his neck and weeps, “Why? Why him? Why him?”

Dean just strokes the back of his hand and lets him cry it out; he’s gonna need to.

-

Mary brings the family around the next day. To their credit, neither Sam nor John cry, but Jess bawls like a baby. She sits up on the bed with Dean and Shay, letting him play with his uncle. She’s sobbing the whole time, grabbing Dean’s hands like she’ll never get to hold them again. She probably won’t.

“I love you.” she tells him through her sobs, “Dean I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I love you too Jess,” he smiles and sits up, pulling her in for a hug with Shay smushed between them, “take care of my idiot brother, huh?”

“Of course,” she sniffles into his hair, “of course I will.”

“And you.” he looks seriously into Shay’s eyes, “Gotta be good for mommy and daddy okay? They’re gonna need you.” Shay grins in response and makes grabby hands at Dean. Dean grins and pulls Shay against him in a hug, “that’s right big boy, you’re gonna be here for them.”

Sam hugs Dean so tight he’s pretty sure his sasquatch of a brother broke his ribs, and he says, “I’m gonna miss you big bro.”

“Of course you will,” Dean rolls his eyes, “I’m awesome.”

Sam laughs breathlessly, “That you are.”

Sam and Jess have to leave, but they promise they’ll return tomorrow. John and Mary stay for a while, just chatting with Dean and having a good time. Dean hugs them before they leave, but makes them promise not to say goodbye. It feels too final, and he doesn’t want that word to be tainted for them. Then, he and Cas are alone.

“Cas,” he says quietly, “I’m not..not feeling great. I want you to do something for me.”

“Yeah Dean what can I do?”

He takes a deep breath, looking sincerely up into Cas’ constantly watery eyes, “Get me out of here.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to die here Cas. I don’t want to die in this bed. Bring me somewhere else.”

“W-where? Home?”

He shakes his head, “No. Somewhere new. Somewhere I’ve never been.”

“Dean I can’t just-”

“Please Cas.”

“Maybe in a few days,” Cas insists, “When you’re sure that you-”

“Cas I don’t think I’m gonna make it tonight.” he’s being truthful, breathing has become a chore and he feels too exhausted to move. If he makes it through tonight, he won’t be coherent enough to live tomorrow, “if I end up making it, fine. But… I don’t want to chance taking my last breath here. I don’t want your last memory of me to be engulfed in stale hospital smell and antiseptic.”

“There’s no way they’re gonna let you leave.”

“They can’t control me. Besides, we’ll sneak out. Let’s go, help me up.”

Cas seems extremely reluctant, but there’s understanding in his expression. He helps Dean to his feet, and slowly dresses him in the pajamas he’d worn to the hospital two days ago. He wishes he could be in his Zeppelin shirt and jeans, but this is the closest he has to normal, and he’ll take what he can get. Cas manages to sneak past the staff and get Dean out to the car. They hadn’t had him on a breathing machine because honestly, that would be an act of futility, but breathing is still a little more difficult as he walks. Cas loads him into the passenger seat of the Impala, and gets behind the wheel, gripping it with ferocity.

“This is nuts, you should be in bed.”

“Drive Cas.”

Cas drives. Dean rolls his window down and feels the wind beat across his face, whooshing through his hair. He feels so free, so fucking free, like he’s flying. The smell of freshly cut grass and fresh air infiltrate his nostrils, and he eagerly inhales, absorbing the natural smell of Earth. They drive for a while before they reach their destination. It’s certainly somewhere Dean’s never been before. He’s seen it, but never actually been. Kansas is full of green fields and beautiful rolling hills, and now he’s in one of the biggest, most beautiful in Lawrence. Purple wildflowers sprout up in the grass, large trees are sparse around the field, but the ones that exist are beautiful. Energetic sunlight rays down on Dean’s skin, making him feel like a child again. He and Cas end up under the biggest tree there is, laying down in the grass staring at each other like some kind of cheesy romantic comedy. But Dean knows how this ends, and it’s not humorous at all.

“I love you Cas,” he whispers, running his fingers through the blades of grass that tickle his skin, and smiling, “this is a good last memory. Being here with you, in the sunlight.”

A bug crawls across Castiel’s knuckles, “I love you too. You look beautiful right now.”

A cricket chirps in the distance, signalling that sunset is not far off, and Dean’s smile grows, “I’ve never been to this meadow before. Have you?”

Cas looks around, and smiles slowly, “My mother and I used to come collect ladybugs here, there are so many. She wanted to see it before she died, but she was in the hospital.”

Dean reaches across the grace and locks his fingers with Cas’, “She’d like that you took me here.”

“I think she would.”

“Do you want to collect ladybugs?”

Cas sits up, leaning on his elbows and delicately plucking something out of the grass. He holds his palm out to Dean, revealing the small red and black bug that crawls across his skin. Dean smiles, pushing himself into a sitting position with difficulty and clawing through the grass around him for bugs. They collect handfuls and handfuls, releasing them back into the grass soon after.

Surprisingly, the two grown men spend hours collecting bugs, talking and laughing and enjoying themselves. By the time they grow tired of it, the sun has begun to set, hiding behind the trees, and twilight overlaps sun. Cas plays music on his phone, slow and subtle. Dean smiles at his choice of song, “ _Yesterday_ ” by the Beatles.

“I love this song,” he says quietly, “I want to dance.”

Cas helps him to his feet and circles his arms around Dean’s waist. They slowly begin to spin in a circle as the song lulls on.

_Yesterday...all my troubles seemed so far away._

“Dean I love you.” Cas whispers as he leans his head into the crook of Dean’s neck.

_Now it looks as though they’re here to stay._

“I love you Cas.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I know Cas, but you’re going to be okay.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“You can keep the Impala.”

Dean can feel Castiel’s lips curl into a smile against his neck as their bodies move in rhythm to the song, “Good. I’m going to take good care of her Dean.”

“Hey Cas? Promise me you’ll try to find someone else, okay? If not a lover than a friend...someone who can add color to your gray.”

“I will try Dean. I will.”

“I’m getting cremated. Take some of me if you want.”

“I’d like that.”

The song panders off, and Dean’s breathing is labored. Cas helps him back down to the ground, leaning their backs against the tree as they look over the setting sun’s rays on the meadow. “Clean out the house too.” Dean urges him, “I don’t want remnants of me hurting you every time you come home.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Cas assures him, “for once, let me console you, huh?”

“I’m not afraid Cas.” Dean whispers, taking Cas’ hand and looking into his eyes, “I’m not afraid. I have you here with me, I can do this.”

“Good, don’t be nervous.”

“How’s my hair?”

Cas laughs a little, “Fantastic. You look beautiful as the moment I met you.”

“Remember what you said to get laid? Life is about perspective.”

“Yeah, yeah I remember. It worked, we had a hot night didn’t we?”

“Damn right we did. I want you to remember that when it gets hard, okay? Just try to move forward.”

“I will Dean, I promise you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So have you accepted it?”

“I don’t want you to go,” Cas admits, slightly teary, “But there’s nothing to do.”

Dean nods, yawning and schooching down to lay on his back, looking up as stars become visible, “Look how pretty Cas. I’m gonna be up there soon.”

Cas lays down beside him, eyeing the sky, “A part of the constellations forever.”

“I _am_ infinite.” Dean whispers, “just look at the stars. Whenever you miss me.”

His breathing slows, and he yawns again, cuddling up next to Cas for warmth. He admires the way the stars reflect on the pretty blue of Cas’ eyes, remembering how stark they’d been to Dean on their first meeting. How long ago it seems, feels like ages.

“I love you.”

Dean hears the words, and he forces out his own, “Love you too.” they come out as a weak huff.

His eyes settle closed as he listens to the sound of Cas’ heartbeat beside him. He tries to match the breathing of his boyfriend, but fails. His chest rises and falls slower every second. He feels like he’s falling asleep, and it’s not so bad with the sound of Cas breathing beside him.

“Thank you for some summer, during my winter.” he mutters to Cas, repeating what he’d said at Dean’s funeral, “you were the best season I could ask for.”

“And so were you Dean. So were _we_.”

Dean smiles at these words as he falls asleep to the sound of a fading heartbeat. 


End file.
